Page 89 of Smuggler's Cove

She called a few members of her staff to come into her office. “We need to put something on the board for next spring’s edition.”

There were a few groans. Everyone knew it was almost impossible to predict what was going to be in fashion a year from now, which meant they would have to create what would be in fashion.

“Anyone have any ideas?”

“Melon,” Victor said. “Cantaloupe. This spring, it was robin’s-egg blue. Time to go to the other side of the color spectrum.”

“And this is why I love you, Victor. I think that is a fabulous idea,” Madison noted.

“What about watermelon?” someone asked.

“Yes! It can be an entire melon theme! I like it!” Madison was energized. “Now we just have to convince the fashion houses to make that their color palate.”

“Liz, that will be your task. Start the rumor mill. Leak that Prada is considering mango, and then tell Dior the same thing.” Madison grinned. “And everyone will think it is their idea.”

Victor clapped. “Genius.”

“Meeting is now adjourned. We can figure out the rest next month. Olivia, let Wagner know that we are on it, and he can enjoy his six weeks in Ibiza, or whatever exotic island he is going to be lounging on.”

Madison checked her watch, the same Cartier she had been wearing since she graduated from Hackley. The strap was replaced twice, but it still kept perfect time. She noted the meeting took less than a half hour. A record. She already had ideas as to layout and color combos. Madison was known for mixed-media layouts, and she busied herself with giant color swatch books and fabrics. Before she knew it, it was time to go home.

She said her goodnights to Olivia and the few remaining staff. “Have a good weekend, everyone. See you tomorrow, Liv. Are you driving down with Linc or taking the ferry? I’ll be on the eleven-something.”

“Eleven thirty,” Olivia said. “Yes. Me too. Meet you on the dock.”

“Cool. See you manana.”

“Sleep well. If you can.” Olivia winked.

* * *

Madison was all atwitter on the ferry ride to Highlands. Olivia kept putting her hand on Madison’s bouncing knee. “Easy, girl. You’ll create a wake.”

“Listen to you and your nautical lingo.” Madison grinned.

“You should think about getting used to it.” Olivia raised her eyebrows.

“Please stop. I am nervous enough without you and my brother needling me.”

“You told Lincoln?” Olivia was surprised. “I thought you were going to wait until Viggo picked you up.”

“That was my original thought, but I figured Lincoln would want to know what we were going to do about dinner, etcetera.”

“True.”

“Which means the two of you will have the house to yourselves. Make a cozy fire in the firepit? A little moonlight?”

“Sounds like a date,” Olivia said.

“Aren’t Saturday nights known for them?”

“Not recently,” Olivia said, smirking. “For either of us.”

“If all goes well tonight, perhaps we can change this rut we have gotten ourselves into.”

“Good idea. There will be a lot to explore, or simply relax under the stars,” Olivia romanticized.

“I do not want to get . . .”